


The Devil's Got Nothing On Us

by AndrogynyZombie



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Constipation, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Kidnapping, Light Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medical, Medical Procedures, Rescue Missions, Serious Injuries, Surgery, Torture, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-08-20 14:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndrogynyZombie/pseuds/AndrogynyZombie
Summary: What's a crime lord do when the people he needs to teach a lesson to don't have any friends or loved ones to torture- just each other?Or: The Merc Gang Doesn't Have the Showdown With Lozano and Locus Gets Kidnapped Instead.Featuring: Felix has to do a rescue, Siris doesn't get clued in until shit's hit the fan, Locus gets beat up for his lunch money, and medical clinics where medical clinics really shouldn't be!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Through all the fear and doubt, two-faced anxiety  
> Through all the chemicals, bouncing inside my brain  
> Through all my weakness in disguise,  
> I think I can see a little truth in your eyes

 

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Felix hissed.

 

If he’d remembered that their comms were still active, he might have held back, maybe. As it was, he scowled through the sound of his partner sighing long and low on the other end. They could have probably communicated strictly through the sound of Locus’ sighing. This particular variety said, ‘I am so tired of putting up with you’.

 

“Quit complaining,” Locus’ voice came through tinny and distant.

Felix hoped Locus could picture the way he’d rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just keep my mouth shut about your dumb-ass plan that you didn’t tell Siris about that’s putting our asses in twice as much hot water as we’re already in.”

“Siris is off comms, you know that. We need to give him time to secure his family and make sure it looks like we’re on the run to Lozano’s men. They can’t find out Siris is involved, Felix.”

“Whatever.”

“He has more to lose than us.”

“Yeah, and all _we_ have to lose is our lives. What a small concern!”

Another sigh. “Have you secured what you need? It’s almost time to hit the rendezvous.”

“Yeah,” Felix said. He swung the bag across his shoulders- mostly weaponry and a change of clothes.

Meeting Lozano on their terms meant they had to disappear for a day or two. Hopefully it would give them a chance to catch him in the dark, so to speak.

 

“For the record? I think this is a monumentally stupid idea, Locus.”

He could practically hear Locus’ dismissive shrug. “It was the most expedient option.”

“We’re sitting fucking ducks like this!”

“They’re looking for us as a unit,” Locus said. “Traveling together would only raise suspicion and make us easier to track. We can delay their discovery this way.”

“We could have done that together- I don’t fucking get it!”

“No one needs you to get it, Felix. I just need you to get your things and get to the rendezvous point.”

“I’d take going slower over the very real risk of being ambushed,” Felix said, gesturing his hands despite the face that Locus couldn’t see it.

 

He took the silence on the other end as some kind of tacit admission that he’d been right and they should never have split up. Felix would have harped on it some more, but that ran the risk of giving Locus the idea that Felix was unnerved about being alone. Alone while they both knew there was a huge, very dangerous monster zeroing in on them.

That would make Locus feel important, and the last thing he needed was Locus being smug. Or Locus taking _that tone_ with him, like he might use to talk to a small child. Felix figured that Locus just regularly forgot that they weren’t _all_ head-cases that needed to be talked down any time they experienced something unpleasant.

 

The silence wasn’t much of an improvement though.

Felix touched his earpiece irritatedly. “Locus? Are you done? Can we get this mess back on the fucking road?”

His reply took longer than Felix liked. “Affirmative. On my way.”

“Would it kill you to talk like a normal person every now and then?”

He knew Locus bristled at the use of ‘normal’. “It might kill _you_ , if you don’t stop complaining.”

Felix snorted. “Yeah, whatever. See you in ten.”

“Keep your comm link open.”

“Copy that,” Felix said, in his best imitation of Locus.

 

-

 

Despite entertaining thoughts to the contrary, Felix did of course keep his comm link open. He even kept up a steady stream of chatter to keep Locus updated on his position, like a good little military boy.

Within five minutes, he was annoyed that he was the only one putting in the effort.

 

“What happened to following protocol, asshole? Where are you?”

The silence on the other end buzzed like white noise in the earpiece. Felix picked up his pace.

“Locus, seriously, if you’re trying to prove some kind of goddamn point here, I am **not** in the mood!”

 

There was no reply. Felix could feel his pulse start to pound in his ears, because Locus might have been an asshole, but not the kind of asshole that compromised missions. That was Felix’s job. He switched the communication channel to Siris’.

“Yo, Siris, you there? Heard from Locus?”

No answer on that end either, although Felix had been expecting that. Siris was supposed to stay off the channels to avoid any implication in Lozano’s revenge scheming. At least until he could make sure his precious little wife was off the radar, too.

 

He swapped back to his private channel with Locus and shouted his name a few times.

Felix swore under his breath and broke into a full run.

 

-

 

Locus wasn’t at the place they’d agreed to meet back up and Felix took a moment to catch his breath. It was from running, just from the running of course, which was the only excuse he had to explain the way he could hear his own heartbeat, and see his vision start to fry at the edges. He swore again and fanned his hands out in front of him in silent self-admonishment.

 _I’m not gonna lose it. I’m not going full goofy-Locus-crazy on this_ , he told himself.

 

“Locus? Come in, Locus!”

 

There was no way something could have gone terribly wrong, he figured. They were both powerhouses and they were each capable of handling a host of dangers individually. They didn’t need to be together; this? This had nothing on some of the shit they’d seen during the War. Teaming up was convenient, it was comfortable, but it sure as fuck hadn’t been a necessity.

It would be pretty goddamn hard for someone to have gotten the jump on Locus.

That only left one other option though- had Locus actually fucking _run out on him_?

Felix didn’t have time for his train of thought to jump tracks from confusion to rage before there was a warm crackling in his ear. “Locus-“

 

“Felix.”

 

The voice in Felix’s ear was most certainly _not_ Locus. It was smooth, gravelly, and heavily accented. It made Felix’s blood run cold for a second time that night.

“Lozano,” Felix said.

He took out his phone and glanced at the screen. He considered messaging Siris, because suddenly he was in way over his head, but shoved it back into his pocket. It would have been a huge security issue, ran the risk of someone finding out about Siris, finding Siris himself, and Felix was damned if that would be his fault. He couldn’t be down two partners.

Instead, he grit his teeth and tried to remember how to form words.

“Where the **fuck** is Locus?”

Lozano laughed. “Straight to the point, I see. Your partner is with us at the moment. You are easier men to find than I had expected- I had hoped for more of a chase.”

“Oh, I’ll give you a goddamned chase. Tell me where he is.”

 

There was a voice somewhere in Felix’s head that shouted he was doing this all wrong- every word out of his mouth was taking another bargaining chip away. Desperate men didn’t have the space to bargain. He should have been playing it cool, pretending like he didn’t have to have a horse in this particular race.

It was a dangerous gamble considering how they’d left him, but he only had Gabriel to work with. His fist tightened until it shook and even he would have admitted that his voice sounded too hot to really sell the lie.

 

“So, you’re not particularly interested in getting Gabriel back? Because it sounds to me like you’re trying to set up a trade.”

Lozano laughed again, dry and bitter. “Don’t fuck with me, boy. I know he’s dead.”

 _Fuck_. He must have sent someone to the quarry to check. Felix swallowed and tried to breathe quietly. “If you’re so sure of that, then what do you want from me?”

“I want to extend to you the same offer you extended to me. In the interest of being fair.”

Felix snorted. “Seriously? You’re after money? That’s just sad."

“Not in the slightest.”

“Then what?”

“If you agree to meet with my men- meet with me- I will freely give you the location where you can find your partner. You show up, unarmed, perhaps we can negotiate. If you don’t show up-“

There was a low, dangerous chuckle that made Felix grip his knife.

“-Well, if you don’t show up, he dies. Slowly.”

 

There was the distant sound of a gunshot, distorted by the audio quality, and a sort of angry bark that Felix recognized from experience was the sound of Locus being shot.

 

It rushed back to Felix faster than he could make sense of the sequence of events, the way Lozano had promised to hunt down the people they knew and ‘make them suffer in your place’; Siris’ outburst had ensured that Lozano knew it would be a good threat to carry out.

They’d all figured that Felix and Locus- completely free of any real ties, no family or loved ones- had been more or less safe from that particular threat. None of them had banked on the now-obvious and convenient reality that the next target that would have made sense was their connection to each other.

A gamble to make sure that Lozano definitely ended up with both of them, and even if he didn’t? He’d at least get to kill one of them. Felix felt bile in the back of his throat, as if his body was unwilling to contain the kind of sick anger he felt at the idea that not only had he been caught in a trap, but some fucking criminal nobody had figured out how to leverage Locus against him.

 _Stupid_. It was idiotic, and they should have spotted it from a mile away, and it was exactly the kind of thing they were supposed to be working together to avoid.

 

Felix steeled himself. “How am I supposed to know you won’t just kill both of us if I show up? Good faith?”

“It’s your choice. You can show up, and perhaps you are both allowed to live. Or, his death becomes an inevitability.”

Felix knew Lozano had just set up an elaborate show to make their defeat as theatrical and humiliating as possible. He wasn’t gullible enough to believe even for a second that Lozano would do anything other than set up a deathtrap and make an example of them. It was just a great way to prove to anybody watching that he could make them walk into their own executions themselves and then beg for his mercy.

Proof that Lozano could get you, could get the people you cared about, and could force you to put the gun to your own head.

“Motherfucker,” Felix spat, “Send me the location and put some fucking tea on.”

“I’ll be seeing you.”

 

Felix wanted to hurl the earpiece into the street just for the satisfaction of watching it break. He didn’t want that son of a bitch in his head any longer than he had to. He left it on anyway. He had no idea if he’d need it, if Lozano had more information, or if there was some way he could get him to broadcast something, anything that would give Felix an edge.

If it had been anyone else on Lozano’s tongue- hell, maybe even if it had been Siris- Felix would have probably left. He’d skip town, forget the whole mess that he’d unwittingly made and let Lozano’s bullet in their mouth be his final “told you so”.

But this? This was Locus, and Locus was- well, _his_.

That was as far as Felix could get through that thought until a hot wave of killing fury washed over him. He was grateful for the way it drowned everything else out for the moment. Just let that possessive anger squash down any of the other feelings he desperately didn’t want to look at.

Locus was his, part of the partnership he’d built that made Felix feel nearly fucking invincible, a deadly extension of his already formidable arm.

 

Hell, he didn’t even necessarily need a better reason to spring Locus out than the sheer pleasure of outmaneuvering Lozano and slipping a knife across that arrogant old bastard’s neck.

 

-

 

Outmaneuvering Lozano would be easier said than done though.

 

Felix felt a shock of something grim and hopeless spike through him when he approached the warehouse Lozano had texted him the location of. It was big, and definitely pretty roomy, which would have been decent for a stealth mission. It was a bad sign for how many men he’d have to expect in there, and stealth had never been his strong suit.

He checked and re-checked the weapons he’d brought. The entire duffle bag hadn’t been a feasible option, so he limited it to what would have been most useful- his pistol, a handful of stun grenades, two C4 packets and detonators, knives as many places as he could fit them, and ammo.

It felt like nothing, it definitely wouldn’t be nearly enough for what he’d be up against. For a moment, Felix fought through the sensation of his throat closing up. He almost wanted to leave at that moment, leave Locus to his fate for the unforgivable crime of making Felix feel this fucking small without him.

 

The truth was- and the truth was a slippery thing for Felix, even to himself- that he wanted Locus with him there more than ever. Locus would have plans, would have a steady grip on his rifle, a clear head when it mattered. He could tamp down on Felix’s wild edges just enough, give him a sense of purpose and place beyond just the will and want to kill. 

Felix sighed. He’d just have to make it work with the sheer want to kill.

He tried to tell himself it was just the stress of the whole night coming down on him that made him doubtful. He didn’t _need_ Locus to do this. Locus was a convenience; Locus was another weapon and Felix had won tougher fights with fewer weapons.

 

At least he’d already changed out of that stupid suit. He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, trying to pull off some Bond movie bullshit. Casual assassinations were much more his style.

He squared his shoulders and scanned the windows, noting that he didn’t see any laser sights or movement. Lozano was either confident Felix intended to play by his rules and stroll in through the front door, or confident that he had enough security to get a handle on it otherwise.

 

He tapped his earpiece. “I’m here, asshole.”

“Please, you’re welcome to come in then, Felix.”

“First, I want proof he’s still alive. Otherwise this is just a waste of my precious time.”

“As you wish.”

 

Felix’s phone buzzed and he answered it as if it were about to come alive and bite him. It was only static for a moment until-

 

“Augh, fuck! He head butted me dude, what was I supposed to do?”

“Secure him, for fucks sake!”

Felix smirked. Honestly, that alone would have been proof enough that Locus was alive.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

 

There was an ominous thrumming sound through the receiver and a sharp crack that Felix realized with a dropping sensation in his stomach was some kind of electricity. Then his ears rang with a distant goddamn roaring that was unmistakable as anything but Locus. Felix took a deep breath and told himself it was the sound of more rage than pain.

The call cut off just as one of those unidentified men began to shriek again. Good to know that Locus wasn’t going to make it easy on them.

 

—

 

He didn’t accept Lozano’s invitation, not directly at least. Sure, it would have been the most satisfying, the most dramatic, and hopefully bloodiest possible course of action, and that appealed to Felix. Realistically the plan was riddled with chances for total disaster. Including that he doubted Lozano’s invitation had extended to the weapons he was carrying; it would be hard enough without handicapping himself.

So he broke a window at the far end of the building, opposite where he’d been instructed to enter. It was inelegant but functional, and there wasn’t even a guard on the other side. That thought gave him some hope; Lozano was just arrogant enough to have left security flaws.

 

He still had to find his way through the building though, which would suck. Eventually, having crept into a hallway, he could see that the whole building was probably just a series of doors off of one huge hallway. Tedious, but predictable. He found the staircase and ran straight to the third floor, because that level of inaccessibility screamed ‘torture room’ to him.

The guards were minimal up there, which immediately sank his hope that he’d found the right place. He still checked the rooms one by one, and by the fourth guard he’d managed to sneak up behind and dispatch he’d practically been gloating. It would be risky; he knew there was a limited time before the other guards became aware that a good handful of them were dead in the corners, but it was a gamble he’d been forced to take. Picking them off one by one was his best bet while he was alone.

Felix crouched behind a large storage locker and tried to calculate if he could hit the sentry in the hallway with one of his knives, and move the body before the next guard came, when his comm went off again.

 

“Felix. Are you still coming?”

Felix mouthed a curse. “Yeah, yeah, give me a sec. I’m a busy guy.”

“Try to clear your schedule. Perhaps you’d appreciate another update, hm?”

Felix had only just parsed what Lozano meant when his phone buzzed. The icon for a video feed blinked like an alarm and he swallowed nervously before he hit “accept”. He knew he didn’t want to see whatever they had to show him, but he also knew it would have driven him crazy to _not_ know.

 

There are fingers obscuring the edges of the camera but in the dead center of the picture is Locus, on his back and surrounded by Lozano’s men- or at least their legs were all he could see- and there was a military-style boot pressing on Locus’ neck. Another one slammed down suddenly against Locus’ ribcage with a force that made Felix cringe.

Blood was everywhere and Felix couldn’t even make an educated guess where it was coming from, except that Locus’ mouth and nose seemed to be likely suspects. The video cut with a sick, low cracking sound that Felix noted, clinically in the back of his mind, was probably one or more of Locus’ ribs.

Felix wasn’t even aware that he’d launched the knife in his fist until the gurgle of a man choking on blood finally reached him. His vision was white at the edges and he couldn’t really recall the last time he’d felt this pissed off. It had probably been some point during the War, but he’d since forgotten how to beat it back. He crouched there and clenched his teeth so tightly he thought he might have actually been drooling.

 

He was going to _hurt_ Lozano.

 

When the moment passed, Felix finally swallowed one real, deep breath. The silver lining was that now he knew Locus was definitely not on that floor, because he would have heard the sound of the laughing, chattering, and kicking-

He was halfway down the staircase before he caught himself again and backed into a shadowed corner to try and breathe. The anger was only being fed, moment by moment, by how pathetic Felix felt at losing his self-control like that. His mission, which was a more dignified term than this deserved, had gotten more and more fucked.

Twice now, he’d sort of just exposed himself to danger, because he couldn’t clamp down on how frantic his nerves felt; couldn’t get the horrible, painful sounds Locus had made out of his head.

 

 _This is going to hell fast_ , Felix thought to himself.

 

Tucked into the corner, he gave himself a minute to try and search himself for the place inside him- it was always there, it was the one thing he could rely on- that would let him drop this, that would let him cut his losses and run to live another day. Either he’d leave Locus to his fate, or it could be Siris’ problem if he could work up the balls to stop wringing his hands over his stupid little family.

The desperate feeling didn’t go away when Felix can’t find it in him. He couldn’t even abandon this whole mess if he’d wanted to, because he didn’t want to.

  

-

 

_Well. This sure isn’t how I imagined dying._

 

Felix crept down to the second floor landing despite the increasing gloominess of his thoughts. The guards were thicker there; he drew his pistol and planned on killing whoever he could, rapid fire, before he ran like hell. Hopefully it would take out enough of them to make it confusing.

Four men went down before the guards could even lift their heads, and Felix pegged two more in the stomach while they swiveled to the source of the commotion. From there he couldn’t exactly keep track, because he’d bolted down the hallway, firing at whatever moved.

He ducked into a room somewhere in the middle of the hall and crouched just outside the door, aiming to gun down the men as soon as they ran after him. None of them were thinking, either because they’d didn’t have combat training or just lacked common fucking sense, because several just ran in without looking.

 

Felix would have almost felt bad for shooting them in the literal back. He flinched when the comm crackled in his ear just as he slammed another magazine into his pistol.

“That,” Lozano said with a _tsk_ sound, “was a mistake, Felix.”

The jig was up; Felix had to get out and clear those rooms, he had to find Locus and…fuck, what? Set up a bottleneck? Sit down and die there with him?

 

As if it were answering him, the phone went off. Felix thumbed it open numbly, even though he really didn’t have time for it. He needed to stay on the move but something kept him rooted to the spot as another video buffered.

 

It was grainy and dark but Locus was there, eyeballing the camera coldly, slumped in a chair with his arms probably tied behind the back of it. Felix didn’t even take in the details, he just froze with relief that at least Locus had the presence of mind to be pissed off.

That relief was short lived, because Locus screamed. The sound immediately punched nausea into Felix’s stomach; he could count on one hand the number of times he’d heard Locus scream, and none of those incidents were something he’d ever want to remember.

The camera panned down and Felix watched like he wasn’t even in his body anymore as the knife- a small knife, which was an equally small comfort- carve its’ way through Locus’ abdomen. The knife pulled out halfway, like they wanted to start disemboweling him but changed their mind mid-cut. Blood poured easily from the gash it left behind, maybe only three inches long, but god it’s so fucking deep.

Somewhere, Felix felt his limbs at the same moment he realized he could distantly hear the scream echoing outside the phone. That sound was chilling on its own but-

_First floor, Locus is on the first floor-_

 

“You’ve tried my patience enough,” Lozano said coldly.

If it had been any other situation Felix would have grinned and found something sarcastic and cutting to volley back. Lozano was pissed, and that alone was proof that he’d at least ruined the man’s little game.

Now there was a timer on Locus and the small victory tasted bitter. Felix switched the comm to his and Siris’ private channel in a last ditch effort to call in the cavalry.

 

“Siris if you’re there I really, really need you to fucking pick up!”

Felix windmill kicked a man in the hallway and put a bullet into the guy behind him while he skidded to a stop on the stairway landing. Almost as an afterthought, he slapped a C4 packet onto the stair before jumping down several steps at a time.

He had a plan, he had a perfectly workable plan. He just had to dodge enough of the guards, get Locus out of there, plant another C4 charge and then blow the place before anyone could follow.

God, it’s the _worst_ plan he’d ever made.

 

“Felix?” Siris sounded tired and on edge. Felix’s voice must have given away how serious it was.

“Siris, oh holy shit! We’ve got a fucking problem-“

 

A searing pain shot through Felix’s left shoulder and he cried out something garbled before turning and gunning down another two men. He was somewhere on the first floor, but it took him a second to turn sharply into the first room he could see and flatten himself against a dark wall.

 

“Felix, was that gunfire? The fuck’s happening?”

“Lozano,” Felix managed between breaths, “got Locus. Shit’s fucked.”

 

He could practically feel the weirdly still sort of terror that Siris was probably feeling in the pit of his stomach. Probably because Felix was experiencing it ten times worse.

 

“Oh, shit. Felix, where are you?”

Bullets pinged into the room. Felix lifted his pistol and tried to steel his hands against the way they were shaking because _fuck_ his arm hurt.

Siris sounded horrified. “Felix, don’t tell me-“

“That I’m currently smack-dab in the middle of Lozano’s big secret Locus torture fortress? Gonna have to disappoint you there.”

“You just ran in?!”

“What were my other options Siris?” Felix was fairly screaming and only realized a second too late what a mistake it was, when another two guards charged him.

“Can you tell me where you are?”

 

Felix knocked someone out and swept the knees out from the other before shooting them both. He combat rolled into the room across from him before anyone saw him.

“Some kind of old factory building,” Felix gasped, “somewhere along 9th and, uh…”

 

A shotgun thundered several times in the next room over, and Felix thought he felt his heart stutter to a stop. He and Siris choked out Locus' name in unison.

Felix threw a stun grenade out of the room and caught a few guards. He couldn’t see the doorway, so he just shot into the cloud wildly while he ran.

 

“9th and Cedar!” Felix shouted.

“On my way,” Siris said.

 Felix thought he could have sworn his life to Siris just then, or blown him- he’d just been grateful.

 

There were a few wet-sounding _thunks_ that told Felix at least one or two shots connected before he slid into the target room like he was playing the most fucked up baseball game of all time.

He was choked by the remnants of the stun-cloud and doubled over in a wheezing fit. It felt like it’d been hours since he’d last gotten a chance to fill his lungs properly.

Which was, of course, how he missed the sound of someone approaching until a pump-shotgun was cocked dangerously close to his face.

 

“F-Felix?”

 

The voice was strangled and weak, but Felix didn’t even need visual confirmation that he’d found Locus. Felix shoved the big metal door closed and piled whatever was in arms reach against it as a barricade. He’d gotten a stack of chairs and a shelving unit before a pair of thick arms joined his to pull over some kind of cast-iron machine to hold the door shut.

“That should buy us a few minutes,” Felix said to himself and ran a hand through his hair, streaking it with blood.

When he looked up Locus was standing there in front of him and- _how the fuck was he standing?_ \- his hair hung like a curtain around his face. The very few parts of his skin that weren't purpling into pools of bruising were unnaturally ashen. Blood dripped sluggishly from where it collected on his lip, and he had his wrist pressed to the place Felix knew he’d been jackknifed open like a fucking dissection pig.

Felix drew his pistol and scanned the room. They were the only two living things there- Felix was beyond impressed at the five corpses strewn about.

 

“Fuck,” Felix said with an unhinged peal of laughter, “did you even need my help?”

“Felix?” Locus said again and his voice sounded raw.

His laughter died. “Locus, it’s me.”

 

Locus’ eyes swam in and out of focus. He reached a hand out and moved it slowly to Felix’s shoulder as if he’d been expecting it to just phase right through. Felix grabbed his hand and just sort of held it still against him, searching Locus for any sign of recognition. He was so far beyond feeling weird about the gesture because with Locus touching him the whole thing felt real again, and Felix needed something grounding.

Locus swayed with his heavy breathing and Felix noticed with a twist to his stomach that the sound was wet and rattling.

 

Felix breathed in sharply. “You’re a goddamn mess.”

Locus didn’t respond, just stared until Felix felt the panic start to ratchet up again. “Locus, say something!”

It didn’t register with Felix that he’d slapped Locus until he drew his hand back stinging and wet with blood. Locus gasped like he’d been woken up from a nightmare and really saw Felix there for the first time.

“Felix,” Locus said and it was a statement instead of a question.

“Are you done practicing my fucking name?!” Felix screeched.

“What’re you doing here?” Locus’ voice was losing its clarity, like he was drunk. “How’d you get here?”

 

Locus’ face screwed up in confusion and concern until Felix laughed again because, shit. Locus was worried about _Felix_ right now? Felix dragged Locus' arm over his shoulders and tried to lower them both to the ground as carefully as he could. Locus looked like he could collapse, and Felix knew it would be three times as hard to get him back up but fuck it- they could both use a minute to just breathe.

 

“Lozano invited me,” Felix said.

“It’s a trap,” Locus breathed, and it turned into a body-wracking cough complete with blood. “You wouldn’t just walk into a trap. You’re smarter than that.”

Under any other circumstances Felix would have taken the opportunity to preen under that kind of high praise, coming from Locus. For some reason that Felix refused to give any space to consider, the statement rang like an admonishment instead.

“Apparently I’m not,” Felix said roughly, “lucky you.”

 

Felix checked him over, turning Locus’ head in his hands to survey the damage and keep track of the worst of it. Halfway through the list had already been discouraging as Felix’s hands skimmed the injuries he counted.

One of his eyes was blackened, along with most of his cheek and jaw; there was an angry string of bruising across his throat and disappearing under the collar of his dress shirt; half a dozen gashes littered his arms and midsection; the gash in his stomach, the bullet wound on his thigh.

He looked like total shit and those were just the parts of him that Felix could _see_.

 

“Christ,” Felix breathed, “what did they do to you?”

He glanced around the room at the mangled bodies and chuckled. “What did you do to _them_? That’s impressive, even for you.”

 

Felix picked up Locus’ arm to inspect it and saw the way his wrists had been torn raw by zip ties or rope and the telling way one of Locus’ thumbs was bent at an unnatural angle. That explained everything.

Locus just watched and tried to breathe, although he didn’t do a very good job of it. Felix shook his head and stood up, pacing the room to try and find something he could use to put pressure on the worst of the wounds. All he could find was an old sheet that he cut into strips; he grimaced as he worked and told himself there’d be time for disinfectant later.

Felix knelt down and tied a thick strip around Locus’ thigh and knotted it against the entry wound, drawing a wounded growl from Locus. It was harder to wind the makeshift bandages around Locus’ bulky torso and Felix had to do it in a way that wouldn’t bind up his ribs until they could figure out if they were broken.

The adrenaline was coming down and exhaustion had started to creep in, but Felix couldn’t dwell on that. It was hard enough to work on his bandaging, and even  harder now thanks to the way his hands were wracked with shaking fits. It took multiple attempts to even wind the cloth right, forcing him to start over once, twice, three times.

 

He could see Locus watching him from his own haze of exhaustion and Felix grit his teeth, trying to force his body into stillness and control.

“Are you alright?” Locus said.

“M’fine,” Felix said through the mouthful of rag he’d been trying to tear.

His hands betrayed him though, shuddering so hard they curled into fists reflexively.

Locus’ hand landed somewhere along Felix’s bicep. “You’re fine,” Locus said, his voice a hair lower than normal, “we’re fine.”

Felix drew back with a sneer, because they _didn’t talk about that_ \- don’t use that deceptively innocent phrase outside of the cover of night, in between the worst of the nightmares or maladjusted insomnia habits. It was a secret they’d wordlessly agreed to keep from themselves and each other at any other time than necessary, and Locus was there just _saying it_ like he- like he’s-

 

Whatever Locus had intended, it worked-Felix was pissed off enough that all he could focus on was knotting the makeshift bandage as tightly to the wound as he could.

Locus barked at the pressure, his hands curled tight into fists but he didn't shove Felix off, or punch him or anything. It was enough of an oddity that it made the worry curling around Felix's insides redouble.

“You bleeding anywhere else?” Felix said, turning over Locus other arm. The cuts were shallow enough not to worry about.

Felix unceremoniously jammed Locus’ thumb back into its socket. He managed a begrudging “sorry” at the way it made Locus choke on some kind of garbled cry.

“No,” Locus gasped.

 

The bleak reality of their situation started to knock, quite literally, on the door. It was a decent barricade but he knew it wouldn’t hold up for as long as he needed it to.

 

“Shit, shit, shit. What do we do now?” Felix said, half to himself.

Locus looked up at him and shook his head. “I- I just need a minute…need a minute to think.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “It’s gonna take you longer than a minute, and we don’t have time for that. We’re surrounded by guards, and just how the hell are we supposed to get you out of here? You can barely walk.”

He heard the high-pitched note of panic in his voice and briefly hated himself for it. Felix stood, picking up Locus’ discarded shotgun and cocking it.

 

“You’ll stay here,” Felix said, trying to mimic the air of finality Locus always used when he was fed up with an argument, “I’m going to go back out there and clear the place. Then we’ll be able to drag you out of here as slowly as we need to.”

Locus managed to look annoyed. “That’s an even more stupid idea than it was to come here in the first place.”

“Oh, you have a better idea?!”

“I can manage myself. Just give me a gun and we can both make our way out.”

“You’re fucking kidding me. Look at yourself!”

Locus struggled to stand up, doubling over and shuddering as if each movement was agonizing. It probably was.

“We’ve survived worse,” Locus said tightly.

“‘Worse’ by a pretty **thin** fucking margin, Locus!”

Locus straightened up defiantly. Felix didn’t miss the way his eyes swam with obvious pain.

“M’fine,” Locus drawled, “I just…I just need a minute.”

 

Felix watched as Locus took a few steps forward, faltered, and them crumpled towards the ground with a low groan. Felix darted forward to try and catch him, to at least make his fall less likely to induce head-trauma. More head-trauma, anyway.

It was an unusual sensation, to grip at the almost-full weight of Locus and pull him against Felix’s chest. He sank down slowly, guiding them so that Locus’ legs wouldn’t be folded underneath him. Locus’ fists were curled helplessly in the fabric of Felix’s hoodie, drawing shaking breaths in that horrible way that made Felix’s own chest hurt to listen to.

Felix’s hand found its’ way to Locus’ hair, petting it soothingly like he was some kind of big dog. It was another one of those things that would have normally freaked Felix out a bit, but he had about a dozen or so more pressing things to freak out about.

Number one, with an underline, was their impending death.

“Useless,” Locus rasped.

“I’ve been fucking saying.” Felix’s voice lacked any real malice.

He felt rather than heard Locus chuckle painfully, broad hands finding their way to Felix’s shoulder so he could push himself up. He sat back facing Felix; it looked like he was grappling with himself to keep his eyes open and his back straight enough to qualify the position as “sitting”.

 

Static crackled in Felix’s ear. “You still alive out there?”

“Siris! I found Locus.”

“How is he?”

“Completely fucked. No idea how I’m getting him out of here.”

“What’s the enemy situation look like?”

“More than I can fucking handle right now!”

“Felix.”

“Fuck, uh…definitely more than 6. I tagged like,” Felix tapped impatiently on his leg while he tried to remember what he’d seen, “ten of them? Maybe?”

“Well, that’s better than nothing. Hang tight.”

“Not like I have many other options.”

Siris snorted. “You’re welcome.”

“I’ll thank you when we’re all walking out of here alive.”

 

Locus looked to him, alarmed. “Siris?”

“Yeah, he’s on his way. Here’s hoping he gets here before we’re ground beef.”

“We weren’t supposed to contact him,” Locus said quietly, as if he were telling it to himself. “This whole thing was so he could get away.”

Felix glanced sharply at Locus when something turned uncomfortably in his head at the way Locus had said that. Like he’d had some kind of plan that preceded this whole idiotic mess- but that wasn’t possible, right?

Locus was crazy, but he wasn’t the type to plan out an elaborate suicide. Felix winced to himself at the thought; or at least he wasn’t the type to do it with two other people in tow.

 

That was a bad train of thought to get into, at least while they were still in danger. He had to think practical. Felix tipped the shotgun to check its’ ammo and the motion sent a spark of pain up his shoulder- he’d forgotten all about being shot, somehow. He breathed in sharply and dropped the shotgun.

Locus shifted forward with a hitch to his strained breathing and put a shaky hand on Felix’s arm, just below the bullet wound. He looked like he was trying to school his expression into disapproval. “You’re hurt.”

Felix laughed then, really laughed until he could feel tears welling up in his eyes because it was ridiculous and fuck, if that wasn’t the most _Locus_ thing Locus had ever done.

Locus looked appropriately confused when Felix cupped Locus’ face in his hands. “Locus, Locus, Locus. If I weren’t absolutely positive it would give you a traumatic brain injury, I would knock you in the mouth _so_ fucking hard.”

“What?”

“Could you drop the fucking ‘lone warrior Spartan’ act for five fucking minutes?” Felix said, his voice low and dripping with venom.

 

Locus narrowed his eyes at Felix and sighed in that very put-upon way. Felix didn’t care because they were not in a situation that gave him either the space or energy to care. One of them had to have their head on straight.

Felix had finally rekindled that pocket of anger and he was content to let that burn through him in place of the energy he’d lost about three firefights ago. As usual, Locus had been the answer- stupid fucking Locus, sitting in front of Felix dying and he didn’t even have the good sense to act like it. He had to be a goddamn action-movie soldier, even now.

He stood and paced, listening to the sound of their firing squad as it tore down the doors. Locus leaned back on his elbows and his eyes fluttered shut. Nervous tension crawled between Felix’s shoulder blades as he realized what was happening, and what sleep meant for injured people.

“Hey!” Felix shouted, kneeing Locus’ shoulder. “Who said you could go to sleep?”

Locus jumped back to attention. “Huh? I-“

“Stay with me,” Felix snapped.

There was a strained silence. Their assailants had apparently paused to change their approach and it left them with their increasingly troubled thoughts. Felix tried to take stock of his weapons, figure out how he could use them here, but Locus was staring at him in a way that made his skin crawl. He hated to be scrutinized.

 

“Why?” Locus said.

Felix turned to him with a scowl. “Why, what?”

“Why did you come back for me?”

There was a flash of strobing white that was more in Felix’s head than his vision and for a second, he was back There. He could feel the way blood and gore had soaked the ground into a marsh, could smell the smoke and hear the gunfire that drew more and more distant, because the people near to him were all dead. Everyone except Locus- Locus, who had irritated him to near hatred with his naivety, his mindless empathy for everyone and every damn thing- Locus, who had been his only real shot at survival because being a bleeding-heart loser didn’t stop him from being handy with a gun.

Locus had asked him that same question then.

“Felix!”

Just as quickly, Felix was back in the warehouse with a tight pain in his chest. If he weren’t just sort of listing reasons he had to be pissed off, Felix would have laughed again. Locus had dragged himself over to shake Felix by the shoulders, and the expression he wore told Felix that he knew exactly where his head had just been.

 

Felix’s hands shook then, too, matching Locus’, because the thundering at the door was getting louder and pieces of the barricade had come loose. He moved to push Locus off of him but found that he couldn’t make his traitorous hands move, just fanned out against Locus’ chest as if he needed him there to brace himself.

It wasn’t as easy an answer now, was it? It had been easy back then; Felix had wanted to live, and two soldiers were better than one.

Because maybe Felix didn’t really know himself why he’d come back for Locus, not this time, when it was all risk and very little reward. What was he supposed to say to that?

That when he had tried to picture walking away and starting a new life anywhere else- free to do whatever he wanted- that there was a dark, bleakness that eclipsed everything else, that froze his guts until all he wanted to do was puke? That thinking of himself as _Felix_ , just Felix like he’d always been, and not _FelixandLocus_ had made him feel so small, exposed, and insignificant that he would have preferred eating a grenade back in the war?

Felix wanted to be furious, he was ready to embrace it and blame Locus for every pathetic, weak, insipid thought he’d been having, but for once the feeling flickered and died in his throat.

 

“Because we’re partners,” Felix said finally, and cursed himself and Locus and everything for the way his voice cracked.

 

Internally, he blamed the breaking of his composure on the fact that he was waiting for that door to burst open and cut their cozy little fucking reunion short, along with their lives. Like it always was with him, it wasn’t entirely a lie.

Felix held his gaze just long enough to see Locus’ eyes widen and his mouth fall open like there was something he wanted to say back before he shoved himself away to face the barricade. They didn’t have time for this.

 

“Locus,” Felix said suddenly, freezing in place, “what’s the blast radius on these C4 packets?”

“Under 70 feet, I think,” Locus said hazily, pressing a hand to his temple as if it hurt to think. “They’re small…can’t remember.”

“Get to the far corner.”

“What are you…?”

“Move!”

 

Felix darted to the door, jammed the C4 into the crack between it and the floor, and sprinted back to Locus in a smooth arc. He pushed Locus, forcing him to stumble back across the room until he had him pinned against the corner, grateful for the fact that Locus’ current weakness let him keep them pinned there, with Felix’s back to the doorway.

Recognition dawned in Locus a moment too late. “Felix, no!”

Felix slammed down on the detonators.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Felix’s ears rang, which was a pain if the ass because he couldn’t hear anybody coming. He pushed himself up from where he’d fallen, ignoring the suspiciously Locus-shaped mass underneath him, and pivoted his shotgun toward the doorway. Or, where the doorway _had_ been-now it was just a twisting portal wreathed in weak flame. Locus groaned somewhere behind him, which at least proved he was still alive.

 A hot, burning sensation dotted Felix’s back, which should probably have concerned him more than it did. He ignored the trickling sensation between his shoulder blades and focused on hauling Locus back up.

 “Okay,” Felix said with considerable effort, “time to put that Spartan act back on, ‘cause we need to get the fuck out of here. Think you can walk?”

 “That was reckless.”

 “Reckless, and successful! Can. You. Walk?”

 Locus nodded, but the first step he took sent him to his knees. Felix threw Locus’ arm around his shoulder and braced the other around his waist. Together they took another experimental step forward; Locus stayed upright, but it still drew a low, painful sound out of him.

 “Lean your weight on me,” Felix said, “I’m not a goddamn porcelain doll.”

 He regretted the suggestion immediately, because he had seriously been either underestimating Locus, or overestimating himself, and carrying the man sent sharp pain sounding through his bleeding shoulder again. Still, he couldn’t complain, even if it was just to himself-they were moving again and that’s all that mattered.

 Felix raised the shotgun in his one free hand and pointed it straight ahead. Not a great range, but better than being unarmed. The scatter of bodies outside of the destroyed door was bigger than he’d expected; maybe that was it, and they’d be free to just sort of drag themselves out.

 A bullet pinged somewhere to their left and Felix figured that had been way too much to hope for. The fire caught, albeit sluggishly, but it was still sending thick plumes of smoke into the air, and the blast had taken out a few of the hallway lights. Felix fired blindly into the shooter’s general direction and hoped it could at least scare the son of a bitch into cover.

He wished they’d had cover, too. Instead he flattened them against a wall as best as he could and tried to find the shapes in the hall- there was something, humanoid and moving-

Before Felix could pull the trigger he heard a gunshot and watched as the silhouette fell over, dead. His earpiece crackled loudly, garbling the speech on the other end of it- it must have been damaged in the explosion, and that wasn't exactly a comforting thought for the rest of Felix’s body- but the timbre of Siris’ voice carried through.

“Felix, that shotgun you?”

The sound echoed outside of the earpiece and down the hall. Felix threw the earpiece away and shouted Siris’ name.

“Felix?”

“Who the fuck else would call you that?”

For a moment there was nothing, just the crackling fire and boots coming down the hall until another shape focused into Siris, strapped with guns and with a silenced pistol to Felix’s head.

“Holy shit,” Siris said, gaping a bit, “you two look rough.”

Felix grimaced. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to find this place.”

“The explosion that blew out the back was a pretty big tip off.”

“Heh, oh yeah. Almost forgot I set that one off, too.”

Siris stared at Locus with an expression of slow alarm; he hadn’t said anything, barely even acknowledged Siris’ presence aside from a lethargic nod. Felix snapped his fingers to draw Siris’ attention.

“Did you see Lozano? Did you kill him? He’s somewhere around here, he’s got to be.”

Siris shook his head. “I only saw a few guards. Maybe he ran off?”

“Dammit.”

Siris draped Locus’ other arm around his own shoulder to keep him propped up between the two of them. It was still slow going, but Felix would take any improvement- especially one that took some of the pressure off of his shoulder.

“Let’s just get out of here. We can figure out how to deal with Lozano later,” Siris said.

 

“Is that so?” The familiar voice was just behind them, thickly accented and fairly dripping with venom.

Siris spun like he’d been expecting that and dropped his half of Locus. He faced Lozano with the pistol leveled at his forehead. Felix hesitated, crouched to put Locus on the ground as quickly as he could without just letting him hit the ground like dead weight, and took one step in from of him to block him from Lozano’s view, shotgun at his hip.

Lozano didn’t look like he’d even noticed the chaos around him, much less have been touched by it. Felix was surprised; he’d figured Siris was right. How badly had he wanted to be there to execute Locus himself?

“Asshole,” Felix hissed.

Lozano arched at eyebrow, but didn’t move.

Siris tossed his head to the doorway and the flames that had begun to lick at the warehouse’s structure. “You’re a reasonable man, Lozano. Maybe it would be in all of our best interests that we walk away, right now. Consider the scores even.”

Felix felt his teeth clench; it had been a bold move, but probably too bold.

“ _Even?_ My son is dead; I have yet to be given even one life to make up for that particular indiscretion. You really think I’m going to let you fucking degenerates walk out of here alive, to tarnish my business and smear my name?”

Lozano’s voice was low and quiet, made three times more threatening for how Felix had to strain to hear him over the sound of the flames and crackling wood.

Lozano also had a sawed-off shotgun aimed at Siris’ head and he was close- real close. Technically, Felix knows they’ve got him outgunned, but it didn’t really feel like an advantage. Their next move would have to be a very careful one.

 

“God, I have fucking _had it_ with you!”

Felix hurled his own shotgun directly into Lozano’s face where it cracked in an impressive display of blood and mangled nose.

Everything seemed to happen at once. Felix’s head would have been spinning even if it weren’t for the streak of hot pain against his side that told him he had successfully drawn Lozano’s fire. He was dimly aware of the sound of Siris as he just about emptied his magazine into Lozano, could feel hands on his arms that definitely _weren’t_ Siris because he could see Siris mow down the old creep, so that must have been Locus-

“What’re you doing?!”

“Drawing fire!”

“You aren’t supposed to announce that!”

 “You **asked**!”

 Locus was behind Felix then and he could feel his large, unsteady hands when they dipped into the blood that oozed from Felix’s side.

 Locus huffed. “You’ve been hit, you impetuous son of a-“

 “I’d really like to get out of here!” Siris shouted.

 The sound of flame eating through the building and the beginning cracks of pieces slumping and falling to the ground was all the motivation they’d needed. Siris settled Locus back across his shoulder and Felix followed suit, grinding his jaw against the way it lit his entire left side up with pain. He almost wished he could have lapsed into shock, if only to escape the sensation for a moment.

Felix could tell that Locus tried like hell to help carry himself, but there was only so much weight his right leg could take. The faster they tried to move, the closer Locus’ breathing crept towards hyperventilation.

“You’re making it worse,” Felix snapped and tightened his grip on Locus’ waist. “Just let us carry you.”

Locus looked at him with an expression caught somewhere between exhaustion and curiosity. The scrutiny made Felix’s skin crawl.

“What?”

Despite the fact that he looked to be on the cusp of blacking out and Felix was sure that, without medical attention, he’d probably die, Locus still had the absolute gall to grimace. “You could have been killed pulling that stupid stunt.”

Felix returned the expression. “ _Siris_ could have been killed if no one did anything.”

“Thanks, by the way,” Siris interrupted as he maneuvered his car’s back door open. “It uh…well, it was pretty impulsive but, hey. It worked.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Locus murmured.

Felix grinned to Siris. “Admit it, it was pretty funny too.”

Siris chuckled before he choked the sound back down against the icy way Locus glared at him. They both carefully managed to ease Locus into a sort of heap in the backseat. Siris moved as if he had been about to pat Locus’ arm, eyeballed the lack of space on the man’s body not coated in blood, and drew back with a sympathetic smile.

Felix had already dropped into the passenger’s seat; he pressed a palm experimentally to the wound on his side. It was a graze, shallow but bleeding just enough to be annoying.

“You okay?” Siris said, turning the key in the ignition.

He didn’t wait for the answer, just hit the gas and peeled off. The movement jolted Felix enough that his left side thumped into the console and he swore loudly, trying to curl away from the impact.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Siris said to himself.

“It’s nothing,” Felix managed, “just a few scratches.”

Siris tapped on the wheel distractedly as he ran a yellow light. “Okay, okay…options. What are our options? Do you think the hospital would be safe?”

“Not by a long shot,” Felix said, “too much registration, too much paperwork, too many people who could identify us later.”

“This,” Felix gestured behind them, where the warehouse fire had become a soft glow, “is going to blow up in a major way. We can’t afford to be public. Like, at all.”

Siris’ eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror. “We can’t afford to wait much longer, either.”

Felix followed Siris’ gaze to turn and look at Locus, where his breathing had evened out. “Hey, asshole!”

Locus blinked awake slowly and stared.

Felix grabbed some sort of pamphlet off the floor and slapped it against Locus’ knee. “No fucking sleeping!”

Locus nodded weakly.

“You’re the one who always ‘knows a guy,'” Siris said, “who can we call?There are plenty of medics but they aren’t going to cut it; this is going to need surgery or some shit.”

Felix held up his hand as if he were trying to silence the room. “There is one guy. Only one guy I know who’d be hardcore enough to handle this. Hold on.”

He fished out his phone. His hands had barely hit it when he froze, staring at the empty screen in abject disgust before he threw it out the window.

“What the fuck?”

“Lozano contacted me on that,” Felix said, “can’t trust it. Give me your phone.”

“No throwing it out the window.” Siris handed him his own phone, another burner and mercifully untainted by questionable criminal contacts.

The conversation was brief; all Felix needed to know was that Russo was available, that he had the equipment, and he was ready to meet them for an emergency. Siris glanced from him to the road expectantly as he hung up.

“You know that butcher shop in the east end, next to the porn store? On Alameda?”

“Yeah,” Siris said, “what about it?”

“That’s where we’re going.”

“What, the butcher shop or the porn store?”

“Butcher shop.”

“Seriously?”

Felix rolled his eyes. “It’s called a front?”

“I’d almost prefer it was the porn store. Who is this guy, exactly?”

“Is that something you’re sure you really want to know?”

“Ex-military,” Locus said, his voice thin and strained behind them. “Licenses revoked…messy lawsuit…”

“Stop talking,” Felix snapped, turning back to Siris. “He’s capable, he’s never killed anybody on purpose, and he’s got the facilities we need. Nothing else matters.”

“This someone you trust Locs?” Siris said.

Locus nodded. 

Felix huffed and threw his hands up. “Sure, who gives a fuck if I trust him or not? I’m just the guy you need to get to him at all, what do I know?”

“You’re taking us to a butcher shop, Felix! Forgive me for having a few reservations!”

“I trust him…if Felix trusts him…” Locus said, struggling to get the words out.

Felix swallowed tightly as if there were something in his throat and stared out the window. “Stop **talking** , Locus.”

 

—

 

Felix had broken his own rule once or twice on the drive over, although technically the rule didn’t apply to people who weren’t either dying or driving the car. Thus, the rule didn’t apply to him. Siris shook his arm to wake him and immediately held his hands up in surrender at Felix’s feral expression as he checked the back.

 “Relax, I kept Locus awake. Turns out he hates country music, by the way.”

 The only proof of that was the way Locus had been coughing, and the sound of it made Felix wish the man had actually been sleeping instead.

 Siris was out of the car and halfway toward pulling Locus out by the time Felix’s faculties had come back to him. He stumbled out into the unreal candy-pink light of the morning, feeling several different flavors of both wrong and bad. His injuries throbbed in a way that was somehow more intolerable than when he’d been shot in the first place.

 Luckily Siris had forgotten this fact however, as he neither fussed over Felix nor hesitated to throw Locus onto him while he locked up the car. He took Locus’ other arm again and guided the whole shaky group over to the butcher shop’s dented and scuffed back door.

Felix shifted to knock and startled when a panel slid open to reveal two searching eyes.

“Holy shit,” Siris said, “didn’t know people did this kind of thing in real life.”

Metal clanged against metal and the door swung open with an ominous grinding sound. It revealed a pleasant looking man in medical scrubs- he had soft features, round cheeks, cheerfully weathered eyes, and a handsome black beard that matched the hair he had dashingly combed back. Felix glanced to Siris with a smug sort of look, as if to silently admonish him for expecting someone more frightening.

“Well, where is the patient?” Russo said, his accent thick but difficult to place. Felix had given up at “eastern european," and most people just assumed it matched his name.

Felix tipped his chin towards Locus. “The bloody one?”

“Ach, hello there, Felix,” Russo said and lifted Locus’ head to examine it. “This is the partner you mentioned?”

Locus gritted his teeth and made an angry choking noise, at which Russo dropped the contact.

Felix gestured to Siris. “One of.”

Russo clucked his tongue. “He looks terrible.”

“You know, he cleans up pretty well when he’s not on death’s door,” Siris said flatly, staring pointedly past the doorjamb.

“Oh of course, of course, bring him in.”

Russo locked the door behind them as they partially dragged Locus into the room. It had all of the trappings and lighting of a normal doctor’s office, and the _wrongness_ of it definitely rankled at Felix.

He led the trio down a short hallway and into a much larger room. It looked like an operating room from a movie set; glistening with complicated machinery and chrome, sickly green curtains and an array of blinding lights. Even Locus managed to look nervous.

They set Locus down on the table, laying him back when it became clear that he didn’t have any energy left to hold himself upright. Russo disappeared and re-emerged faster than any of them had noticed, shoving a parcel into both Felix and Siris’ hands.

 

“I will need you two to be my nurses, yes?”

“What?” Felix and Siris choked in unison.

“Constanza, she quit, and this being so short notice…”

“We don’t have any medical training,” Siris protested.

Russo waved them off. “No, no, nothing to worry about. You don’t need to do much, just hand me tools, clean up blood, pour antiseptic, stop him from screaming.”

Locus struggled to prop himself up slightly on one arm.

Felix pushed him back down with a halfhearted scowl. “Screaming?”

Russo laughed, unbothered that no one else did. “It’s a joke, a joke. I have anesthesia."

Felix and Siris reluctantly pulled on the protective gear that Russo had handed them and watched in nervous silence as Russo washed his hands and snapped on his own gloves and facemask.

“If you don’t mind cutting the shirt off? I need to get a good look.” Russo had turned away and was carefully stacking a variety of unpleasant instruments onto a tray.

Felix shrugged at Siris and picked up a set of scissors from the tray, pointedly not looking at Locus as he cut the garment off of him as carefully as he could. They were adults, they had seen each other shirtless before, but something about the clinical atmosphere made the ordeal feel about ten times as awkward as it should have.

He tried not to wince sympathetically when the fabric tugged painfully at some of the wounds. Thankfully, Russo stepped in just in time to spare Felix from having to look anywhere else; he stepped back and surveyed the damage from behind the doctor.

Felix sucked a sharp breath inward and heard Siris next to him to the same. Locus’ chest was a mess of disturbingly purpled bruises in huge swaths around the bottom of his rib-cage, peppered with shallow cuts and red, blistered areas that looked a lot like burns. The knife wound was a few inches above his hip-bone and was now disturbingly clean and slack from pulling the bloody mess of his clothing away from it.

Felix felt the familiar surge of anger and embraced the comfort of a normal sensation in his current situation. “Why the fuck were you _standing up_ and _walking around_ , you dumb shit?”

“ _How_ were you walking around?” Siris said, sounding impressed.

“We’ve survived worse,” Locus said between labored breaths.

“Stop saying that,” Felix said and pointed at Locus accusingly. “I swear, every time you say that it takes years off our fucking lives.”

“Time for you to stop saying anything,” Russo said cheerfully and placed a plastic breathing mask over Locus’ face.

 

Felix recognized the instant it happened in the way Locus’ face twisted, the way his arms flew up to find purchase on someone’s throat- Locus was panicking. He jumped over before Locus could really lose it and hurt Russo, or himself; he clapped his hands on either side of Locus’ face and tried to block out the doctor and all the alarming medical shit in the background.

“Locs! Calm down!”

Locus’ hands gripped Felix’s arms way more powerfully than his condition should have allowed. Felix wondered if it would bruise.

“Locus, you’re fine,” Felix said, gently for once and only mildly annoyed. “You’re fine, we’re fine. Breathe.”

The frantic look slowly left Locus’ eyes and he gave a single nod and let his hands release Felix’s arms, sliding helplessly down. Felix pulled his hands from Locus’ face, patting his neck reassuringly and stepping away to let Russo settle the mask back over him. He kept his hand on one of Locus’ wrists instead- just in case, he figured, he could knock it off if Locus snapped again and started to flail.

Russo twisted a lever somewhere behind the table and with a single shaky breath, Locus’ arm went completely, disconcertingly limp in Felix’s grasp.

 

—

 

“Isn’t that usually something you do before you knock someone out?” Felix said?

He watched impatiently as Siris helped Russo set up an IV drip and plug it into Locus’ upturned arm.

Russo shrugged with a disarming smile. “Well, yes, usually! However, I wanted to make sure he was not conscious for the part where I have to remove his pants. I am not certain that would be pleasant for anyone if he was awake, no?”

Felix must have made a face, because Russo laughed. “Relax, no worries. I will do it. Just fetch me the antiseptic from the cabinet, yes?”

For all his internal grousing, Felix had to admit: he had abso-fucking-lutely no idea what a proper surgical procedure even looked like. He also supposed that if he’d wanted everything done by the book, he shouldn’t have show up to a disgraced ex-surgeon’s butcher-shop backroom for medical treatment.

Siris looked as doubtful as Felix felt, but had opted to be quiet about it as he handed bottles of orange-red liquid to Felix, who handed them off to Russo. They watched as the doctor poured the liquid into Locus’ stomach wound like he were trying to water a plant. Both of them found some trivial task to busy themselves with when they heard the scissors cut through the last of Locus’ clothing.

When Russo called Felix over he saw Russo repeating the iodine bath with the comparatively small hole in Locus’ now-exposed thigh. It was, again, not something Felix hadn’t exactly seen before- the military wasn’t best known for the privacy it extended to soldiers sharing a barracks- but Locus’ total helplessness for it gave him a sort of disturbing, prickly sensation.

“Scalpel,” Russo said conversationally.

Felix handed the doctor the scalpel and tried to look annoyed instead of unsettled. Siris crowded in close to him, glancing between his face and the way Russo had begun to cut into the stab wound, widening it with a few careful strokes. Felix could tell Siris had recoiled under his face-mask before he turned to Felix in an attempt at composure.

“I was wondering about something,” Siris said quietly.

“Just one thing?”

“How did you two get separated in the first place?”

Felix snorted. “Yeah that’s right, he didn’t tell you. It was his idea; he said a bunch of shit about us ‘not moving as a unit’ to distract whoever might have tailed us.”

Siris’ eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Felix held his arms up. “Thank you. That’s what I said. Anyway, it doesn’t make sense because I’m pretty sure he did it on purpose.”

“On purpose? What do you-“

Felix crossed his arms, breaking the gesture to hand the doctor a clamp. “Can’t say for sure, but I have a theory. At the warehouse, he mentioned something about ‘making sure you could get away,' which didn’t scan, ‘cause it wasn’t in the plan that you’d be ditching is long-term.”

“So he-“

“Snagged the GPS tracker from Gabriel’s body, pocketed it, probably planned on ditching it before anyone could catch up to him. Figured he’d be able to pick off whatever scouts they’d send ahead to find him, even if he timed it poorly. He just wasn’t expecting them to come in such fucking force, or that they’d have some pointless, convoluted kidnapping plan instead of just capping us. That’s got to be it- it’s the only way they could have locked onto him so fast.”

There were a host of emotions that crossed Siris’ partially veiled expression; Felix could identify confusion, anger, concern, and some warm feeling that even he wasn’t sure why it pissed him off before he stopped counting and rolled his eyes.

“It doesn’t seem right that Locus would just go rogue like that. And just to-“

“To aggressively play Mama Bear to you and your family? Basically.”

“And you,” Siris said quietly, sliding his eyes over to the disgusting display of the doctor knuckles-deep in Locus’ midsection.

 

Felix was glad he’d looked away because he had startled as if Siris had fucking slapped him. Because fuck…that was true, wasn’t it? He hated the way that thought churned in his stomach.

 _Poor choice of words_ , Felix thought, trying to ignore the sound of a very literal stomach-churning just inches away.

He handed the doctor a bottle of saline and briefly marveled at the colors of a person’s insides as the doctor washed out the blood. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen someone’s internal organs, but it was the first time he’d seen the organs of a person that he intended to keep inside of them.

Like a rubber band had snapped in his mind, Felix suddenly just wanted the doctor to close up that horrible tear in Locus and tape over it so he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. The video played as crisply in his mind as it had on his phone screen, the knife cutting into Locus’ flesh until he tensed his jaw and shut his eyes against the thought.

 _God_ , he was pissed off. He wished he’d gotten a chance to kill more of the fuckers back there.

“You alright Felix?” Siris said.

“Yeah,” Felix said tightly, “just uh. Tired. Shit hurts. Pissed off.”

They stood in relative silence for a moment, while he wondered exactly what the doctor was doing. It looked complicated.

Siris nodded tiredly. “Listen, think you could take it easy on the big guy when he wakes up? I get the feeling they kicked the crap out of him enough that you don’t need to.”

The word “kicked” lit up Felix’s nerves like a match, because that’s literally what they’d done, and again his ears rang with the sound it had made when Locus’ ribs had finally given way.

“Take it easy?” Felix said through his teeth. “Take it easy on him for fucking us over, lying to us, running his own whole goddamn secret agenda, getting captured, forcing us into a near suicide run to get his ass-“

“No one forced you to go in there like that,” Siris said, his tone stern. “If you had waited, I would have told you it was just as bad and half-cocked and poorly planned as what he did.”

Felix heard his pulse thundering in his head, like it had after the explosion, and he’s being pulled under by a wave of rage and something-that-wasn’t-rage. Distantly, he could remember Locus’ voice, low and uncertain when he’d asked “ _why_ ” in the big fucking revelation that Locus had not been expecting Felix to show.

Back in reality, Felix tore the gloves off and threw them to the floor with a growl. “I’m taking a break. You can get by with just one nurse.”

Russo waved him off without looking up. “Yes, yes, will be stitching for a while yet. Take your time, just be sure to come back.”

Felix had only waited to hear “yes” before he stormed out, slamming those movie-set-perfect double doors as hard as he could.

 

—

 

Felix didn’t smoke very often, just when he couldn’t get out of his own head or find anything more fun to distract himself with. The way the night had already gone by the time he crammed them into his pocket, he’d figured he’d need at least one before he got any rest.

He _hated_ being right.

The smoke left him feeling just a little dizzy as he exhaled his third cigarette, although it had quieted the way his hands had started to shiver again, which was the important part.

He’d been a little surprised to see the brightening orange sky at first; he’d just sort of expected it to stay night indefinitely, or at least until he fell asleep. Looking at the weak dappling of sun made him tired.

So what, Locus hadn’t expected Felix to come to the rescue. That didn’t really _mean_ anything, right? Just that he’d expected something a little more carefully thought out and a little less of the frantic run-and-gun Felix had pulled. It wasn’t a big deal. Any of the deeper implications were just him being overtired and overthinking it.

Why was it making him so fucking nauseous then?

 _Whatever_ , Felix thought. It didn’t matter, because Felix **had** shown up, and Locus could just suck on _that_ the next time he had some sort of big sanctimonious trust-and-loyalty crisis. Despite the steady stream of nicotine, Felix had only gotten more and more angry at himself; he recognized that he was in deep- in what, exactly, he wasn’t sure and he certainly wasn’t keen to identify it, but he was definitely deep in _something_.

Felix was supposed to be a survivor, and a survivor with enough skill and power to exercise his will over anyone and everyone else. If he couldn’t extricate himself from Locus’ messes- if he couldn’t cut and run when the chips were all-the-fucking-way down, well…

“ _Fuck_. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“You listing your major character traits there?” Siris said, letting the door fall shut behind him.

“Actually, I was trying to think of a name for our little bounty hunting outfit. Thought I’d go with **our names**.”

Siris snorted and leaned against the wall a little ways off from Felix. “He’s fine, by the way. Russo said it wasn’t actually too bad; we’ll need to keep him out of the action for a bit, but he’ll bounce back just fine.”

“Literally didn’t ask, Mase.”

“No, you’re just several shades of completely losing your shit.”

Felix blew out an exasperated plume of smoke and lifted one shoulder as if to say, “ _So?_ ”

“You do know it’s normal to feel like, feelings about these things, yeah?” Siris said carefully.

Felix flicked the cigarette stub to the ground. “Pfft, you feel _feelings_? Pussy.”

“Mature. You could be handling it better.”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever yourself. You think you’ve had enough of a tantrum to get back in there and help us out?”

“Fine.”

Siris waited until the door closed behind Felix to pinch the bridge of his nose and take a long, calming breath.

“Stupid,” he said.

 

-

 

Russo still didn’t look up from tying off the sutures on Locus’ thigh. “Good, good, you’re back. Please, if you could just clean the blood off of him? Maybe wrap his arm; I have to set up the x-ray.”

“X-Ray?” Siris said, soaking his rag in antiseptic.

“The ribs” Russo said with an upbeat lilt to his voice that seemed inappropriate, “must make sure they haven’t punctured anything.”

Felix glanced to the expanse of bruises on Locus’ chest with alarm.

Russo laughed. “Oh, don’t worry! If it had been something serious, he’d be dead already!”

“Comforting,” Siris said, but he didn’t look at Russo. He stared directly at Felix, one eyebrow inclined curiously.

Felix scowled and set to scrubbing the knife marks from one of Locus’ arms, noting that he probably would have been decked if Locus had been awake for the rough treatment. He eased up a bit.

He knew enough about first aid to tackle what Russo had left them, liberally applying more antiseptic and padding the individual markings with gauze before he wrapped them. When he finished, the bandage extended down to the raw knuckles.

Siris finished bandaging the bullet wound and moved on to Locus’ other arm. Felix started in on the bloody mess that was Locus’ face, trying to figure out what was cut and where.

“It’s a little weird, huh?” Siris said, taping down another bandage.

“What, you having the bad thoughts, Siris?” Felix said with a suggestive eyebrow waggle. “It’s not like we haven’t patched each other up before.”

“You’re a child,” Siris said blandly. “You know we’re all usually awake for that.”

Felix agreed, but he’d be fucked if he was about to admit that. Especially with the way Siris had been watching him, staring like he’d been waiting for some kind of admission.

“Don’t be a baby,” Felix said, “and get started on his chest, if you think you can hand that. I can’t tell the bruises from the blood.”

He focused on wiping the blood from Locus’ face until he could make out individual bruises and abrasions, probing delicately at either side of his nose to see if he could feel any breakage. Everything looked mostly fine, aside from several splits on his lip they couldn’t do anything about, and a clean cut along one of his stupidly sharp cheekbones. Felix traced it experimentally with his thumb, examining Locus’ face with more interest than the patch job demanded.

It was almost unsettling to see Locus without whatever dark expression he always wore. More than that, he looked…soft- all the hard lines smoothed into something he was tempted to call “peaceful”. It was stereotypical, but Felix thought it did make him look younger. Younger, and uncharacteristically delicate. At least, until you got to the ragged scars crossed between his eyes.

“Great, how am I supposed to tape that?” Felix mumbled to himself.

Siris passed a butterfly bandage to him. When Felix looked up to take it, he caught the self-satisfied expression on Siris’ face and realized he’d been wordlessly watching him the whole time. Felix bit down on his lip and tried to look appropriately hateful, because **fuck** Siris just then.

“Okay, now the hard part,” Siris said, lifting Locus’ limp torso into something approximating a sitting position. “Just get some bandage around that pad Russo taped on his stomach.”

Felix acquiesced, however begrudgingly, and wound the bandage just enough to hold the gauze before they lowered him back onto the table.

“Excellent job, gentlemen, thank you,” Russo said, “now, I suggest you leave the room. Unless you enjoy being irradiated.”

The two of them hurried out of the room, not confident that the doctor would actually wait for them if they didn’t. They stood around in uncomfortable silence until Russo finally appeared, holding the glossy black x-ray sheets. He set them up in the lighted box situated in the waiting room/recovery room/general practice area/office.

Felix didn’t realize he’d made any noise until Siris was giving him a pointed look. He didn’t react, because he was too busy choking back how angry he was at the son of a bitch who’d caused the mangled mess he was looking at.

Of course, he reasoned, either he or Locus had very probably _already_ killed that person. That didn’t mean he couldn’t just go ahead and kill something else.

He saw more or less what he’d expected from watching the guards stomp Locus like a dog- one broken and twisted at an off angle, two more wound with starkly visible cracks. Just breathing would be hell for a while, and he’d be out of their next missions for…

“How long’s that going to have him down?” Siris said, voicing Felix’s thoughts.

“3 Weeks?” Russo said with a shrug. “A month would be good, more would be ideal, but…if you don’t mind running him through the proverbial wringer, 3 weeks would be acceptable.”

They groaned in unison- they weren’t necessarily on fire to get right back into work, but they could practically feel what a goddamn fight it would be to keep Locus quiet and recuperative for that long.

“You can’t like, set them?” Siris said.

Russo laughed. “No, no! No one’s done that in centuries. These things, they heal on their own; not like on the teevee.”

“Mother **fucker**.” Felix punched one of the nearby chairs hard enough that his knuckles came away bloodied.

“Could you get yourself under control for five whole minutes?” Siris said.

“I am fucking _angry_ at him!” Felix barked. It was a response to an accusation, he realized too late, no one had made.

Siris acknowledged the emotionally charged fuckup with a lopsided grin. He was fucking lucky the chair had been the target, and not Siris' stupid fucking face.

“Tsk,” Russo said, tapping his chin, “you’re making more work for me.”

Felix mimed himself breathing in and out as if he’d briefly become committed to yoga. “Okay. So. Is that why his breathing sounds like a lung deflated in there or some shit?”

“Pardon?”

“It’s all…” Felix windmilled his hands. “All rattly.”

“Oh!” Russo said, “Yes, punctured lung. Fairly normal, really.”

Russo’s brow furrowed when he took in how the other men looked at him. “Well…I can certainly decompress it if you would like, but it’s really not too bad.”

“We would appreciate it if you could treat everything it’s possible to treat,” Siris said.

Russo smiled and nodded before retreating to the operating room. Siris and Felix glanced at each other curiously and followed as Russo blustered from one cupboard to the next, pausing to daub more antiseptic just below Locus’ collarbone.

Felix drew his hands back as if in self-defense when the doctor jammed a comically over-sized needle straight into Locus’ chest. He paled and looked at Siris to avoid having to watch anymore. Siris stared back and then turned around to pretend he cared about the machinery behind him.

Russo removed the needle and bandaged the puncture with an easy smile. “Done! Mind, you will still have to watch him for pneumonia, yes? But breathing should be a little easier now.”

“Wonderful,” Siris said flatly.

 

—

 

There was nothing left for them to do except cover Locus with a blanket and wait for the anesthesia to wear off.

Felix felt Siris stare at him from where they sat, arms crossed and occupied with staying awake while they waited. With the anger ebbed away yet again, Felix was acutely aware of both the pain and the warmth slowly spreading down his back.

“Are you bleeding?” Siris said.

Felix touched behind his shoulder and shrugged when his fingers came away wet with blood. “Looks like.”

“Get Russo to fix you up before this turns into any more of a headache, please?”

Russo cocked his head from where he’d been cleaning his instruments, intrigued at the prospect of more ruined flesh. Felix game him a flat look and sighed as he pulled off his shirt.

“Go nuts,” Felix said, gesturing to the stain on blood along his shoulder.

Siris let out a low whistle from behind Felix. “Have you been aware that you’ve had chunks of… _stuff_ in your back this whole time?”

Felix flexed slightly and started as it stung his abused skin. “You know, I’d kind of tuned it out until just now.”

Siris tapped his metal foot impatiently while he listened to Felix’s comprehensive knowledge of curse words as Russo picked out the shrapnel.

“So, Russo,” Siris said, “it was very good of you to take us on at such short notice, and not a simple job at that. I was wondering just what this was going to run, vis-a-vis payment?”

Russo paused thoughtfully and pried the bullet out of Felix’s shoulder with his forceps as if he weren’t aware of the way the man screamed.

“Cock **sucking** -“

Russo patted Felix’s forearm indulgently. “Easier if you’re not expecting it. As for payment-“

“ **Mother** fucking-“

“These services, they do not come cheap, hm?”

“- **Asshat**!” Felix finished, doubled over and gripping his arm.

Siris’ face fell. “I was afraid that’s what you’d say.”

“However, I know a little,” Russo said, pinching his fingers for emphasis, “just a littleof what you do, yes? Perhaps we could exchange a somewhat weighty favor, in lieu of money.”

Siris and Felix exchanged a look of doubt.

“We’re listening,” Felix said when Siris didn’t speak up.

“There is a man, of whom the details are only important if you are interested, that I have, shall we say, a deep personal interest in seeing off of the streets, so to speak.”

Siris sported a dark look and opened his mouth to interrupt. Felix held up a hand to let Russo continue.

“Oh, no, no, this is, how you say, all above board? He has a bounty, you are welcome to check this yourself before you agree, of course. You need not kill him if you don’t wish to. I am only looking for someone unafraid to force him into confinement,” Russo finished, all the pleasantry gone from his voice in a way that almost made Felix shiver, “be it prison, or a pine box.”

“He dangerous?” Siris said.

“Very.”

“Associates?” Felix added.

“None. He works alone.”

Siris nodded absently. “And you’re certain we can do this all legally?”

“As legal as bounty hunting ever is, yes,” Russo said.

“It’s a shame the big bitch isn’t here to weigh in, but, since it would be just you and me, Siris- I’m on board,” Felix said.

There was a long pause, with nearly all eyes on Siris. He nodded tersely. “Fine. It seems fair.”

Russo finished tying off the bandages he’d swathed most of Felix’s torso in with a flourish. “Wonderful!”

He spun and offered his hand to each of them in turn, which they took with a professional air. Again, Russo ducked out and reappeared deceptively fast and handed Siris a crisp manila folder. He thumbed through it, obviously impressed with whatever information Russo had taken the time to compile.

“What’s your beef with this guy anyway?” Felix said.

“Unprofessional behavior,” Russo said darkly.

Felix left it at that and moved to read over Siris’ shoulder.

“Got half our job done already,” Siris mumbled.

Felix pulled his hoodie on over his shirt. “I’m not complaining.”

“That’s nearly a fucking miracle.”

“Shut up.”

Back in the center of the room, Locus shifted and tore at the surgical table blindly as he woke up.

 

—

 

All three of them crowded around Locus as he dragged himself upright, groaning when it inevitably put pressure on the wasteland of his ribcage. His brow furrowed as he blinked at each of them in turn, slowly, as if doing so any faster would add to the hurt.

“How ya feeling?” Felix said, just to fill in the silence. He kind of figured he knew the answer already.

“Not great,” Locus croaked out, and goddamn it hurt to even _listen_ to how wasted his voice was.

Siris gestured to the bruising at Locus’ throat. “Maybe you shouldn’t try to talk for a bit.”

As if Locus had been a real fuckin’ chatterbox before hand. Locus only nodded.

“Well, I suppose out business concludes here, gentlemen,” Russo said. “Give me a moment; I’ll get you the supplies you’ll be needing for the next few weeks.”

“Hope that includes some real heavy painkillers,” Felix said.

The sheet slipped down to Locus’ waist and, as if in unison, they all remembered that Locus’ clothes had been destroyed. Felix had been about to suggest they just load him into the car mostly-naked when Siris decided to helm the awkward bullshit.

“Um, Russo, not to impose any more than we already have, but-“

Russo waved from the doorway. “Ah, yes, yes. I think I have something that will fit him, just a moment.”

Locus stared at the doorway as if he could psychically impart his gratefulness.

“Okay,” Siris said with a yawn, “so, the safe house, right? We can lay low there for a while.”

Felix crossed his arms. “What about your wife and the diaper bag?”

“Surprise vacation. They should be on a plane to her sister’s house by now.”

“Great. Wish we could get a surprise vacation, too, but no. Now we have Russo’s job to figure out.”

Locus eyed Felix curiously.

“And **you** ,” Felix said, voice raw as he spun around to face Locus, “if you **ever** pull anything like that, **ever** a-fucking-gain, I swear to god-“

He would have laughed at the stunned expression on Locus’ face if he hadn’t been so keyed up. Siris stepped between them, holding up both hands as if Locus were in any condition to retaliate.

“Easy, Felix,” Siris said, and he looked as tired as Felix felt. “Plenty of time for you to give him your big ‘do you have any idea how worried we were’ speech later. He **just** woke up. Hell, I’d be surprised if he ends up remembering any of this, and none of us need you to make our headaches any worse.”

Felix knew that the way he crossed his arms and frowned was a little childish in response, but it beat letting Siris know that he had, again, made a good point. His head was throbbing with a buzz of anxiety and exhaustion, and his own shouting had ratcheted it up in a very unpleasant way.

“Fine.” Felix let his arms drop to his sides.

He was tilted closer and closer to the other side of overtired, where just staying pissed off or even cracking wise had become huge expenditures of energy. The less he talked, the less he risked betraying literally any of his other feelings.

“I’ll go pull up the car,” Siris said, shaking his head as if it could dislodge the fatigue.

Felix and Locus watched him walk out and waited for Russo to reappear with the supplies. It left them with only the quiet of early morning, and the strange, appraising way Locus looked at him. He felt like he was going to vibrate through the floor. “Talking less,” had never been Felix’s strong suit, not had “dropping it”.

“I’m serious,” he said quietly, “do you have any idea what a total fucking nightmare that was? How sure I was that the whole thing was going to go up in smoke? Well, I guess, it kind of did literally because of the explosive but- ugh, that’s not the point.”

Felix scrubbed at his face before he let his shoulders drop, as if he’d deflated entirely. His voice, when it came, was soft enough that he nearly cringed at how alien it sounded.

“You could have died.”

Something crossed across Locus’ features that made Felix wish they hadn’t been looking at each other; something briefly vulnerable and searching that only made Felix want to bust up his remaining knuckles, just to get away from it.

 _Fuck_ , Felix thought and he tried to remember how to look pissed off. He was probably doing a poor job of it, but hopefully the effort masked anything more earnest in his expression.

“And _I_ could have died, and _Siris_ could have died, and- fuck, Locus! We were just playing Death Bingo back there!” Felix’s voice had come out sharper, but still lacked any of the reproach he’d wanted to convey.

Maybe it was the very bad metaphor he’d used. _Bingo, seriously?_

Locus winced and let his hair drop to partially cover his face. Felix decided he most definitely did _not_ feel guilty for chewing him out like that.

 

“I’m sorry,” Locus whispered.

_Aw, hell._

Felix sighed and leaned against the surgical table. He reached out and put his hand on one of the few patches of Locus’ shoulder that wasn’t bandaged and turned resolutely away to scrutinize the EKG screen.

_Spike, flat, spike, flat, big spike…_

“Whatever. It’s over, right? Like you keep saying…we’ve survived worse.”

He was gratified to hear Locus chuckle, painful and dry as it was.

 

—

 

Back in the car Felix almost immediately fell asleep, curled up with his knees to his chest in the passenger seat, unburdened by the need to keep Locus awake. Russo had loaded him up with enough painkillers that he was an unresponsive mass stretched out in the backseat- and if anyone had noticed Felix slip himself a few, they’d kept their mouth shut about it.

He woke up with morning in full swing and drawing gently into the afternoon. For a panicked moment he twisted towards Locus, still asleep in the back, before clarity came back to him and he remembered it wasn’t an issue. He settled back into his seat and ignored the amusement on Siris’ face.

“Morning.”

“It was morning already when we left,” Felix said.

Siris shrugged off the deflected pleasantry and they lapsed into comfortable silence for once, Locus’ rasping breathing the only background noise. For the first time since well before they’d set out for the club, Felix felt close to calm. As calm as he ever got, anyway. He rolled the window down and leaned against it, letting the wind whip up his blood-matted hair.

“Hey, Mase?”

Siris tilted his head to him, eyes still on the road.

Felix didn’t turn around or look at him, he just watched the city shrink as they put miles between themselves and it.

“Thanks. You know…for showing up.”

He could hear Siris smiling, even if he couldn’t see it. “Hey, we’re a team. I’m not gonna let my partners go down like that.”

Felix just hummed, smirking faintly at the passing landscape.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry...this grew a third chapter. Mostly it's just...more space for me to self-indulge. I apologize for nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something to prove I'm still here! Just hit a snag called "working two jobs then losing both of them".

The safe house was a cramped little cottage affair with a grand total of four rooms, sitting the the shadow of some rundown suburbs just outside of the city proper. 

The size of the place meant that all three of them shared a room- but not a bed, mercifully- like teenage siblings in a summer home. The setup was considerably more amenable to them now, when keeping an eye on Locus had become a priority.

He was a terrible patient. Sure, Felix thought to himself, they all though he was the worst to deal with because of the way he ran his mouth. Locus, however, just quietly refused to let anyone help, making everything more difficult than it had to be.

“I swear to God,” Felix said quietly, “I will lay you out myself if you keep this up.”

Locus stood in the kitchen and braced himself against the table with gritted teeth. He was pale, and a sheen of sweat already beaded on his brow; fresh blood dotted the bandage around his stomach. Felix grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the bedroom, sighing theatrically as Locus leaned against him. His skin felt strangely dry and hot against Felix’s; he made a mental note to tell Siris about it later. 

Siris was good at delivering a lecture. Hell, sometimes he even listened if Siris chewed him out. 

“The fuck were you even trying to do?”

Locus huffed as Felix crowded him back onto the bed. “Literally anything.”

“I’d have thrown you here if you weren’t so fuckin’ heavy,” Felix muttered. “It’s been four days! You. Need. To. Rest.”

He punctuated each word by throwing a blanket on top of Locus, who shook them off with a growl. Locus settled on the bed like a sulking child, insisting on sitting upright if he wouldn’t be allowed to roam. 

Felix indulged himself in another dramatic sigh. “Why do you have to be such a pain in the ass?”

“I don’t want you getting complacent.”

“Oh, jokes. He’s telling jokes now.”

“Who said it was a joke?”

Felix rolled his eyes and walked out. He got it, he did- he felt like he was going to wind up crawling the walls if he didn’t do something soon. Hiding out was so goddamn boring.

He slipped out to the small, fenced in yard as quietly as he could and hoped Locus hadn’t heard him leave. By the time Felix remembered to look up at the sky, it was dark and he’d nearly cut down a rhododendron bush with the sheer number of knives he’d lobbed into it. 

He crept back inside and nearly threw another knife at the figure standing in front of the sink.

“Locus?!”

Locus turned to him sheepishly as water dripped from his forearms.

This time, Felix skipped straight ahead and shouldered Locus’ weight as he led him out. He reigned him closer with an arm around Locus’ waist, afraid that a stumble or a coughing fit would send the man straight onto the floor. 

“I cannot believe you’re out here shambling around like your ribs aren’t made of cooked fucking spaghetti,” Felix said, slinging Locus back onto the bed, “so you could do the dishes?”

“You clearly weren’t going to do them.”

“I’m telling Siris.”

Locus narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

Felix didn’t reply, just folded his arms and stared at Locus like he was searching for something. His face softened almost imperceptibly as he took in the way Locus’ chest was rising and falling just a little too fast, and the glossy look to his eyes.

“Motherfucker. Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Then why are you breathing like that?” Felix’s hand shot out to touch Locus’ forehead. He snatched it back as if Locus had secretly been coated in acid. 

“I’m fine,” Locus said.

“You’ve got a fever,” Felix said, his annoyance hedged into anger. “Were you planning on telling anyone?”

“It’s nothing-“ Locus cut himself off with a coughing fit, loud and drawing on longer than it should have. 

Felix pushed Locus onto his back and pressed the heel of his palm against his sternum. Locus stared up at him, alarmed.

“What are you doing?”

Felix drew back slowly as it occurred to him how strange that would have seemed without explanation. He tried to look authoritative- he had been trying to feel for any more evidence of that horrible damp, rattling sound in Locus’ lungs. He was sure that was exactly what he’d find, but he was getting flustered under Locus’ confused stare and quickly forgetting. He swore under his breath.

“I think you’re definitely sick,” Felix said evasively. 

They both knew that didn’t even remotely answer the question, but Locus didn’t press further. 

Felix jabbed his finger at Locus accusatorially. “I’m telling Siris. Maybe he still has time to grab a thermometer so I can literally shove it in your face that I’m right.”

Locus fell back against the pillows with a groan. 

—

Locus’ condition had worsened rapidly enough that Felix knew the confirmation that he was sick was just a formality now.

Siris hauled in a variety of bags, thrusting several into Felix’s arms as he trotted up tp air his grievances with Locus-sitting. He dumped them on the table and tried again.

“Locus is the worst.”

“Yeah? And what makes this different from all the other times you’ve said that.”

“He was trying to wash the fucking dishes this time.”

Siris sighed and shoved another armful of bags at Felix before he locked the door. “Of course.”

“Jeez, what did you do? Buy out an entire Whole Foods?”

“Yeah, sorry, the dumpster was empty so I had to go with your second choice.”

“Very funny,” Felix said, dropping his bags to the floor. 

“So what’s wrong with him?” Siris started to put away the groceries before he reconsidered and unpacked a bag stocked with a dizzying variety of medicines and medical accoutrements.

“He’s got a fever. I’m like ninety-percent sure he’s sick.”

Siris swore. “Think it’s the pneumonia Russo warned us about?”

Felix thought back to Locus chest under his hand and shook the thought free. “Probably; sounds like it. I just don’t get why he won’t sit still and shut up for a little while. I blame him for this.”

“Really? I would have thought you of all people would be able to commiserate.”

Felix frowned with a can halfway to the cabinet. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that the last two times we put you on bedrest, you busted out and got drunk. At least he was trying to be helpful.”

“Whatever. That’s not the same and you know it.”

“Debatable. He awake? I should probably go check on him, see how bad this is.”

Felix shrugged and watched Siris disappear into the room with a bag in either arm. He followed after a moment and leaned in the doorway. 

Locus was awake, but just barely. It looked like he’d been about to fall asleep upright against the headboard. He flinched when Siris turned the light on. 

“Sorry. How you holding up?”

“Fine.”

“That’s not what Felix said.”

“Felix says a lot of things, very few of which are worth listening to.”

“Ouch,” Felix said from his disinterested position in the doorway. 

Siris glanced to Felix as if to say, “fair point” and turned back to Locus with a serious expression. “It’s not going to get any easier if you aren’t going to be honest with us about feeling poorly. Like it or not, we’re what’s standing between you and an extra week, or month, of recuperation. We just want to help.”

Siris shoved a thermometer abruptly into Locus’ mouth just as he’d started to look a little chastened. Locus glared as Siris settled onto the side of the bed like a fussy parent. 

“You forced me to use underhanded tactics. Next time, cooperate.”

Felix laughed, drawing Locus’ glare. “What? You should have just told us you had a fever. Consider yourself lucky he got the kind of thermometer that goes in your mouth.”

Both of them glared at Felix until they were interrupted by the alarm of the thermometer.

“Well, it’s at 100, which…isn’t so bad, right?” Siris said.

“It’s not great,” Felix said, “and it’s definitely a fever, so suck it Locus. I was right.”

“Could you make yourself useful and grab some water?” Siris said.

Felix held up his hands in mock surrender and grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, flipping it in his hand. Siris scrutinized three bottles seemingly at once, and Locus tried in vain to maintain a shred of dignity while doubled over in what he assumed was an excruciatingly painful cough. 

Felix tossed the water onto the stand and plucked a bottle from Siris hands. He shook a few out and offered them to Locus.

“You’re overthinking it,” Felix said, “just use all of ‘em and let the meds figure out the rest.”

Locus took the bottle from Felix and gave it a cursory glance before dry-swallowing the capsules.

“Well that’s one way to do it,” Siris said. “I’m sure it’ll work out fine when we have to take him back to Russo to fix his liver damage.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Felix shoved the water into Locus’ hands disapprovingly. “It’s not oxycodone. And quit doing that! I didn’t go out of my way to get you water so you could play tough guy and hork it all back up.”

Locus was looking at him with something caught between annoyance and amusement. Felix stalked off and dropped onto his own bed on the far side of the room; he’d even stuck a knife in the headboard, as if to announce his ownership of it. 

Siris handed Locus another bottle, filled with syrupy cough medicine. “Take this too, or you’ll never get any sleep.”

“And neither will we,” Felix said.

“Oh, and here,” Siris added and dropped a paper bag next to Locus. 

Locus cautiously drew a slightly beat-up paperback from the bag. Felix could see the ghost of a smile tugging at Locus’ mouth. He seemed to be doing that more often, which was weird- near-death experiences usually made Locus sour. 

Felix couldn’t remember when he’d managed to cultivate the dubious skill of “interpreting Locus’ micro-expressions”- he knew Locus would have looked stone-faced to almost anyone else. That thought rested a little uncomfortable in Felix’s stomach, which had also been happening more often. 

“The books were Felix’s idea,” Siris said, eyes flicking between Felix’s scowl and Locus’ mild surprise. “Didn’t really peg you as a sci-fi guy, myself. I would have gone with some dense Dostoevsky kind of shit.”

Locus was fixed on Felix now, surprised and curious. Felix grit his teeth and forcibly turned away from the other two, feigning total disinterest. 

“Never did get why you’d give a shit about aliens and spaceships and crap after fighting the goddamn things for years,” Felix muttered and crossed his arms behind his head. “I always thought the whole ‘outer space’ thing got way less interesting when it tried to kill me.”

Felix remembered back to the first few agonizing weeks around Locus and the other idiots in their company. Reading sci-fi novels while they were being shipped off-planet to be meat shields against the Covenant- it had stuck out, and prompted more than a small amount of mockery from him. 

He could almost remember the title of that stupid book; he’d tried to read it himself after getting stuck in the medbay for a week, but it turned out plasma weapons were a whole lot less interesting to read about after a real one had taken a softball-sized chunk out of your back.

They were both still staring at him, looking varying shades of amused. The attention focused on him burned like a laser; he briefly considered launching himself out of the window. 

He settled for pulling the knife out of his headboard and flipping it instead, so he’d have to keep his eyes trained somewhere else.

“Thank you,” Locus said. He said it generally, but Felix could practically feel the way he was still watching him/

“Yeah well…stop dragging yourself around the house and bleeding everywhere, yeah?” Felix said.

Siris chuckled. “See? Sometimes he is worth listening to.”

“Fuck off.”


End file.
